


Wildcard

by steelcrash



Series: Cayde-6 Remix, or 50 Shades of Cayde [1]
Category: Destiny (Video Games), Highlander: The Series
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Artificial Intelligence, Body Dysphoria, Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Deep Stone Crypt, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Followers of Yor, Gen, Human Experimentation, Idiots in Love, Immortality, M/M, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Past Character Death, Presumed Dead, Science Experiments, Space Magic, Temporary Character Death, The Golden Age (Destiny), Thorn (Destiny), Unethical Experimentation, hand-wavy science
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-06-21 15:24:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15560748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelcrash/pseuds/steelcrash
Summary: Hunter Vanguard Cayde-6 died in the Reef. The remaining Vanguard try to hold everything together, but Cayde's death haunts Zavala. And months after the Hunter's demise, rumors out in the wild and other events make Zavala start questioning his sanity.





	1. Breaking

**Author's Note:**

> My first foray into Destiny fanfic. A day one, year one player, I just couldn't let fixing Cayde's death go undone.

Three months to the day since Cayde's death. The Dawning was coming up, and Zavala wanted no part of the seasonal festivities, so he buried himself in his work. Shiro-4 still hadn't arrived as requested, and Lord Saladin was trying to smooth out an issue between Arach Jalal and Executor Hideo.

Another day like the one he was experiencing and Zavala was tempted to head to Mercury, and go looking for Osiris, drag him back and let him deal with the whole flaming mess currently in his lap. Ikora was in the new Underwatch monitoring two strikes and a Nightfall in the Tangled Shore out beyond Mars. They were getting closer to finding Uldren Sov, and there were significant bounties riding on his kill or capture.

Zavala was hoping for kill, and as much as he wanted to be the one pulling the trigger, he knew it wouldn't be him. He couldn't abandon his post for something as petty revenge, even if it was for Cayde-6.

He sighed. Ah, Cayde. Three months gone. Three hell-filled months of staving off war with the Reef, cementing an alliance with an Fallen faction, and helping oversee the day to day operations in the tower and in the field.

Zavala put down the data pad he was holding, no longer interested in its contents, and he felt Ajax bump his shoulder.

“Shaxx is outside, requesting entry,” the Ghost said.

“Let him in,” Zavala said.

The door whooshed open, revealing the big Titan. He entered Zavala's quarters, helmet under one arm, looking around the room with a frown.

“This place hasn't changed in years,” Shaxx said. “You could really use a new decorator.”

Zavala rolled his eyes. “Why are you here?”

“Ikora sent me. She's worried about you,” Shaxx said.

“And she decided you would be an appropriate distraction?” Zavala asked, standing.

“That's not fair, Zavala,” Shaxx said. “Even I've noticed how you never talk to anyone anymore, and if you do, it's only about work. You're killing yourself. Throwing yourself off the tower would be more merciful than this death by inches.”

“Ajax would just resurrect me,” Zavala said.

“It might be the best sleep he's had in weeks,” the Ghost muttered.

“I heard that, Ajax,” Zavala admonished.

“Well, I'm not wrong,” Ajax snapped. “Good luck reasoning with him. Traveler knows I've tried.”

The Ghost transmatted away, and Shaxx cracked a smile. “So you've even managed to alienate Ajax. That must've took some work.”

Zavala resisted the urge to tell the other Titan to fuck off, but it wasn't polite, but he was well past polite.

“Shaxx, leave. I have work to do,” Zavala said.

“No. You're done with work tonight,” Shaxx said. “Come out with me, and we'll go down into the City, drink, and crack some heads just like back in the old days.”

“It would be highly inappropriate,” Zavala said.

“You could use with a little inappropriate,” Shaxx said. “Have you forgotten you're not the only one mouring? Cayde was my friend, too.”

Another sigh, and Zavala's shoulders drooped in defeat. He sat back down on the couch, and Shaxx joined him.

“Do you remember the 'lucky pants' incident?” Shaxx asked.

Gods, how could Zavala forget?

“I loved your reaction, and how you threatened to throw him off the tower if he didn't shut up,” Shaxx said. “Except it wasn't the kind of 'lucky' you were thinking. He'd never lost a match in the Crucible while wearing those pants.”

“And he never shut up about how he looked while wearing _those_ pants,” Zavala said.

“You noticed?” Shaxx asked with a grin.

Zavala gritted his teeth. “No.”

“Eh, he only did things like that for a laugh. Someone had to,” Shaxx said.

“Many of Cayde's actions were inappropriate for a member of the Vanguard,” Zavala said.

Shaxx snorted. “Have you also forgotten half the things he and Andal got up to when Andal was still Vanguard? Or the occasions when Tevis would come back to the City?”

Oh gods, how could _anyone_ forget? Two of them was bad enough, but all three hunters on a tear? The forces of the city usually ended up getting involved, along with off-duty Titans earning extra currency freelancing.

Andal had been a quiet, thoughtful man, unusual for a hunter. Professional in his duties as Hunter Vanguard, but when it came to Cayde and Tevis, they were his favorites, but then again, they were best friends. All that was left of Andal's original pack after he became Vanguard.

“You're getting maudlin,” Shaxx said. “I can tell from the look on your face. Andal and Tevis made their choices, and paid for them. No one made them do what they did.”

Tevis had died alone, on Mercury, separated from his Ghost, killed by Vex. He'd been Void-touched, in the end. Andal also died alone, murdered by a mad Fallen rogue named Taniks. And Cayde was gone, now, too.

Zavala was sure Cayde hadn't had a death wish, but he suspected Andal's death had been suicide by Eliksni.

“I know what you're thinking. Stop it. Come out with me, and we'll give Saladin a reason to regret ever coming back,” Shaxx said. “And confuse the hell out of him. That alone will be worth it, don't you think? C'mon, brother.”

Shaxx stood, offering Zavala and hand. He grasped it, letting the bigger Titan pull him to his feet. Shaxx hadn't called him “brother” in years, and for now, it was enough.

88888

The next morning. . .

Zavala sat on the edge of his bed, clutching his head in his hands. Ajax was purring on his pillow, ignoring him. He was dying, and his Ghost was going to let him perish. At least the urge to vomit had passed, but Saladin giving him an amused look was almost too much.

Disapproval he could take from his friend and old mentor. But not something approaching humor.

“I could express my disappointment over your actions last night, but I suspect they'd just be ignored. Bravo. Those Hunters were impressed. I would be, if I wasn't questioning your sanity for going out and causing trouble with _Shaxx_ ,” Saladin said. “However, I am relieved to see you actually let someone convince you to blow off some much-needed steam.”

“Blame Ikora,” Zavala muttered.

“What?”

“Blame Ikora. She sent Shaxx to check on me,” Zavala said, laying back down, pulling the covers over his head. “But why are you here?”

“I also came to check up on you,” Saladin said. “But there is something else. You know we were monitoring a Nightfall last night? Well, it was successful. Ezra Tiel and his fireteam eliminated Uldren Sov.”

Zavala sat up. “What?”

“Sov is dead,” Saladin said. “They brought his body back as proof. And Ezra wanted you to have this.”

Zavala watched as his friend reached under his cloak, pulling out a hand cannon. He took the gun, turning it over in his hands. It was Cayde's personal weapon, the Ace of Spades, recognizable by the spade engraved on each side of the handle.

“I thought you'd want it as well,” Saladin said.

“You know Uldren killed Cayde with this,” Zavala said.

“I know. But it's home now. Do with it as you will,” Saladin said.

“Thank you,” Zavala managed. “I'd like to be alone now.”

Saladin nodded, leaving his friend. And once he was alone, Zavala finally broke.

88888

Gwynn was _bored_. When he was bored, he was destructive. Sabotaging his captors kept him busy, but he'd done as much as he could. Sabotage, which, to date, included downloading all the information on every drive available before wiping them and an attempt at breaking out of the room where he and his fellow Ghosts were being held.

A failed attempt. He was out of his cage, but he couldn't hack the door. Nor could he get the others who were still somewhat functioning to even try.

Of the six Ghosts, Gwynn was the most sane, considering his Light had been drained, like the others. He was also determined to get back to Earth, and the City, find someone bigger than he, and bring them back to exact revenge.

Something he couldn't do unless he escaped, and like his chosen namesake, he was strong, and fast, and most important, cunning. He'd stayed alive, and functional. Broken, but determined. Saville and Athachles had self-terminated and along with Perdicus, their shells lay dissected on a table in a corner of the room. Perdicus had been vivisected shortly before the prison break a few months before.

Neria floated near the ceiling, humming to herself, and Levant would rant in Eliksni on occasion.

Neither would acknowledge him, and Gwynn was starting to think he'd end up like one of them. But he wasn't going to die lightless and alone. He was going to escape, and find a Guardian.

88888

 


	2. Conundrums and rebirth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A discovery in the Prison of Elders. An admission is made.

Mac thought coming to the Reef was a terrible idea. Digging around the Prison of Elders was even worse. The place was silent, under lockdown after the incident from a few months back. Automated security was doing its job, he guessed, considering he’d gotten in. And the armed frames didn’t even flinch when they saw him.

Not much left to salvage, and Mac was surprised there wasn't a Vanguard presence already. However, their attention was on the Dreaming City, not the Tangled Shore and the Reef. He'd always been curious about the place, and decided to take a look around before heading back to Earth, and Adam. 

Gods, how he missed his husband, but it was partly Adam's fault he was in the Reef. Rumors reached them, even so far from the City, and Adam always wanted to be forewarned about any threat that could affect them. 

So that was how Mac found himself in the Reef, in the lowest levels of the Prison of Elders, trying to wake the Exo he'd discovered in a modified cryo tank covered with Hive glyphs. Yes, this was even worse than he could possibly imagine, because the Exo was in terrible shape, yet still somehow alive. Yet he wouldn’t call what the Exo was “alive.” 

The left side of the Exo's face was a ruin. The eye was shattered by a bullet hole, and another was above it. The left side of the jaw was unhinged. And it wasn't even the worst part. The Exo's chest was cracked open below a bullet hole the size of Mac’s fist. 

Mac wasn't a Guardian, but he'd been around long enough to recognize an attempt to siphon light. The Exo didn't have much life left, and the spark he retained was not enough to wake him. It was, enough, however, for Mac to sense him, and it was what lead Mac to find the man. 

Except he couldn’t wrest the Exo’s dead wight from the tank. And now he was hearing a faint voice yelling for help. Mac left the cryo storage room, and saw a ghost floating in the window of the room next door. 

“Hey, get me out!” Gwynn yelled. 

Mac broke the glass out with the butt of his rifle, and the ghost floated through, scanning him. 

“You're not a Guardian,” Gwynn said. “But I thank you for your help.”

“Are there others with you?”

“Only two alive, but they won't come. I already tried,” Gwynn replied.

“What's your name?” Mac asked. 

“Gwynn ap Nudd,” the ghost replied. 

“The king of the wild hunt,” Mac said, approving. “Well, Gwynn, I could use your help.”

“Who are you?” Gwynn asked. 

“Call me Mac.”

He beckoned the ghost to follow, and Gwynn, ever curious, did go with him. 

And when the ghost saw the unconscious Exo, he sped over, scanning him. 

“A Guardian! I can heal him, but if he dies, I can’t resurrect him,” Gwynn said. “What happened to him? He had a neural symbiosis with a ghost, but the connection was severed. That must've hurt, and it's probably the reason why he's dead? But he's not really dead. He has a spark of Light, but it feels. . .wrong. . .”

“Do what you must,” Mac said. “We need to get out of here.”

The ghost turned his attention to the Exo, and concentrated forming a new neural symbiosis, then worked on on closing the bullet hole in his chest and repairing the rest of the man’s damaged body. 

Within seconds, the body twitched, and he sat up. 

“What the hell?” he gasped, eyes settling on the other man in the room. “Andal?” he whispered, standing on shaky legs, reaching out, and falling flat on his face. 

Mac turned his concerned gaze on the ghost. 

Gwynn looked down at his fallen Guardian. “He’ll be fine. I think,” the ghost answered. 

“You think? Anything else?” Mac said. “Can you transmat?”

“No. I'm too weak from healing him, repairing the damage from the severed bond and making my own,” Gwynn said. 

Mac sighed. Of course.

88888

Solstice night. The Dawning was in full swing, and Zavala wanted no part of the festivities. Ikora insisted he needed to make an appearance, but he’d begged off, hoping Saladin and Shaxx would pick up the slack for him. He hoped no one would bother him in his quarters. Holing up was a good way to get through his work, along with the added benefit of not having to deal with anyone. But he wasn’t prepared for the fact Saladin let himself in like he owned the place. 

“You need to change your access code,” Saladin said, earning a glare from Zavala, and an even darker look when the Iron Lord's two wolves, Balor and Alusia followed him in. Balor made for the bedroom, hopping up on the bed and Alusia climbed into Zavala's lap, licking his face. 

Zavala set aside his reports with a sigh. 

“They miss you,” Saladin said. “Besides, they know could use a friend.”

“What I could use is time alone to go over these field reports,” Zavala said, absentmindedly carding his fingers through the wolf's fur. 

“Of course. After we talk,” Saladin said. “I've heard some disturbing news of late.”

“What is it?” Zavala said, now concerned. 

“I've heard you and Shaxx have been spending a lot of time together. More than just the bender from a few months back,” Saladin said. “Are you out of your mind?”

Zavala sighed. “No. Possibly. Shaxx has made it a personal responsibility to check up on me at least once a day,” he said. 

“So Ikora put him up to it?” Saladin said. 

“Guilted him into it? I don't care. We've been civil to one another. As long as we don't bring up the past, the time spent together is pleasant,” Zavala said. “Although yesterday he did make one of Ikora's students cry after a training match.”

“He's a loud-mouthed brute,” Saladin said. 

“Who you trained,” Zavala countered. 

“I trained you, too, and look how well you turned out,” Saladin said. 

“Get over the fact we were wrong and Shaxx was right,” Zavala said. 

“He was insubordinate,” Saladin said. 

“How long are you going to hold that grudge? Don't let it evolve into something you'll regret,” Zavala said. “Because I know how that feels.”

“What are you talking about?” Saladin asked. 

“You told us the story of Lady Jolder, and how you never acted on your feelings for her, and how it's one of your biggest regrets,” Zavala said. “Don't let your pride get in the way of salvaging your friendship with Shaxx.”

“Why do I get the feeling we're not talking about Shaxx and I?” Saladin said. 

“I'm only suggesting attempting a reconciliation because one day you may come to regret never mending your relationship with Shaxx. At least we're working on it,” Zavala said. “I've already dealt with more regret in the past few months than I ever thought was possible.”

“Cayde. This is about Cayde,” Saladin said, sitting down in the chair across from his former student. “What regret could you possibly have about him? You were good friends.”

Zavala closed his eyes, leaning back into the couch. “I regret never telling him how much I appreciated him, and his friendship,” he said. “And so much more.”  
Saladin blinked in rapid succession in surprise at that revelation. Better for both of them than letting his mouth hang open. 

“Why didn't you tell him you harbored feelings for him?” he finally asked. 

“Because I didn't want to ruin a good friendship,” Zavala said. “But that's not my only regret. Why didn't he come to me about the problem in the Reef? That Petra Venj had approached him for help? If I'd known. . .”

“Perhaps she didn't want the full-scale involvement of the Vanguard, and approached the Guardian she knew would help? Cayde made his choice, irrevocable as it was,” Saladin said. 

“Accepting it doesn't make it any easier,” Zavala snapped, causing Alusia to whine. With another sigh, he petted the wolf, helping calm her. 

“The heart of the matter is I failed him. Why didn't he trust me?” Zavala said. 

“I don't have an answer,” Saladin said. 

88888

OK. Awake. Something he wasn’t expecting. Comfortable bed. Way more than his bed in the Tower, probably the most comfortable he’d been in since forever. He sat up, taking stock of the fact he was naked and most definitely in unfamiliar surroundings. 

Running his hands over his face and chest, the damage done in the Prison of Elders was gone. So he was alive. Probably not the afterlife? Yeah. He could work with being alive. 

“Oh good, you’re awake,” an unfamiliar voice said somewhere in the direction of his right shoulder. 

Cayde turned, taking a startled swing at whoever it was. 

A battered Ghost disappeared with a frightened squeak, leaving the Exo alone for a moment. He stood on shaky legs, grabbing the quilt off the bed, wrapping it around his shoulders. He tried taking a step, but he fell. 

A man came running into the room, and he knelt by Cayde. “You shouldn’t be up,” he said. 

“Who the hell are you and where am I?” Cayde asked. 

“I’m Adam,” the man replied, hauling the Exo to his feet, and helped sit him on the edge of the bed. 

“How long have I been out?” Cayde said. 

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“That little awoken bastard Uldren Son shooting me with my own gun,” Cayde said. “Who the hell are you anyway? How’d I get here?”

“My home, and my husband Mac retrieved you from a cryo pod in the prison of elders,” Adam replied. 

Caydees jaw dropped. 

“What’s the date?”

“December 30, year 759 post-collapse, or in your case, year 692 of the city age,” Adam said. “Mac found you nine days ago. You awoke three days after in a panic and we had to put you out. You’ve been down since.”

“Ok. where’s my gear?” Cayde asked. 

“Gear?” Adam said.

“Yeah. My gear. Armor and kit,” Cayde said, eyeing the other man like he was stupid.

“All that’s left of your gear are your pants, gloves and a knife,” Adam said. 

“Then find me something i can use because i have to get back to the city,” Cayde said.

“That’s inadvisable, as there would be questions,” Adam said. “Look, I need to explain a few things. What’s your name? Your ghost wasn’t exactly forthcoming with any information.”

“Cayde-6.”

Adam blinked in surprise. 

“And ghost? What ghost? My ghost, Sundance died. I should be dead, too,” Cayde said. “Actually, I think I was. . .”

A ghost rezzed a few feet away. “I’m your ghost now,” it said. “My name is Gwynn. You had no ghost when I found you. You were suffering from the severance of a neural symbiosis and you’d been shot several times. But you had a small spark of light left. It’s how I was able to save you.”

“I think you two need to talk,” Adam said, leaving Ghost and Guardian alone. 

A few hours later, Cayde was back in bed, propped up on pillows, still wrapped in the quilt. Gwynn was at the room’s lone window, looking outside, watching it snow. Cayde was feeling dazed. Like it all wasn’t real somehow. He was alive, when he shouldn’t be. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Gwynn said, floating over, facing him. “You’re wondering why you’re alive. But does it really matter? We survived, you and I. They experimented on us. I downloaded all their data. They used a small shard of the traveler to bring you back. And they drained my light. I’m the only ghost who survived. And I finally found my Guardian, except we’re both broken, aren’t we?”

Gwynn set himself down in Cayde’s hands, the Ghost obviously at some peace with himself, his Guardian and the situation. Lightless. Mostly Lightless. Some small spark of light still existed, enough to help establish the bond between himself and Gwynn. 

Cayde’s head wasn’t empty and he could feel the presence of the Ghost, but it was different than Sundance, now he was calm enough to feel the bond between them. He guessed he should be grateful the little construct had saved him, but what were they going to do now?


	3. Moving On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zavala contemplates what he's learned about Cayde's past, and starts the process of letting go.

Disclaimer: I don't own “Destiny” or its characters. They belong to Bungie and Activision. I'm just taking them for a spin. The Dawning was over, a new year begun, and the cold of winter seeped into the Tower. Except it wasn’t just the cold from the weather bothering Zavala. The warmth was gone from the place. Had been since Cayde died. The Hunter Vanguard’s death also brought a rift between Vanguard Commander and Warlock Vanguard.   
Not a big one so far, but Zavala noticed he and Ikora disagreed more than they used to. Nor did they talk much outside of work like they once had.   
The Titan was also tired of trying to keep the rest of the Consenus placated. Dead Orbit wasn’t a problem lately, nor had Future War Cult, but their respective leaders had the common sense to know when to back off. But that day had been an especially long one. A day of meetings which left their toll.  
Executor Hideo had once again suggested to Zavala he could go from acting Speaker to king of the City, if he wanted. New Monarchy would help place him in the position, and Zavala refused, possibly with more force than needed.   
It was followed by his meeting with Lakshmi-2, leader of Future War Cult, which had been a disconcerting experience. Full of dire warnings about the future (as usual, but Zavala was prepared to listen this time, considering the war cult had been right about the Red War. And no one had listened, and look what happened.).   
Lakshmi had also talked of Cayde’s “departure.” Not death, but departure. Like the Hunter had only left, and could return. Zavala wondered if they knew more, but it wasn’t worth pursuing.   
Another issue was waiting for him back in his quarters—what to do with the late Hunter Vanguard’s possessions. Ikora and one of her students had cleaned out Cayde’s quarters and the two trunks were full of journals, trashy paperbacks and the other remnants of Cayde’s life.   
The items in the trunks proved to be a window into the Exo Hunter’s life and mind. Also snippets of who he’d been through Cayde 1-5.   
Guardians were told not to go looking into their pasts. Most of the time it was a moot point, because almost all Guardians remembered nothing before their resurrections. Cayde, of course, proved an exception. He remembered details of his life while still fully human, his conversion to Exo, even the Collapse itself.   
Zavala knew some of this from the rare, serious discussions he’d had with the other Vanguard, but he had started reading Cayde’s journals. Not that he was around to stop him, and Ezra had given the Titan the journals, unsure what to do with them in the end.   
Some of the reading was fascinating, like the fact Cayde was on Venus during the discovery of ruins predating human civilization, which turned out to be Vex in nature. Other entries were amusing, like the days when Cayde was a new Guardian and part of Andal’s pack. Zavala had heard mention of some of the stories from Andal himself, but details from Cayde’s point of view were. . .interesting.   
More disheartening was the discovery Cayde’s conversion to Exo was basically nothing more than being bought by the Clovis Bray Corporation to be used in a less than ethical science experiment. The Exo was also memory-wiped after each dangerous job to keep the company’s reputation spotless. Spotless indeed.   
Which intersected with Zavala’s thought the Warmind occupying Mars was dangerous and was acting of its own accord to “protect” what was left of humanity. But Rasputin was a matter to be considered later.   
Zavala had finally gotten to the bottom of the trunk with Cayde’s things an found what was the first journal the Exo had written. The Hunter mentioned his Queen and his Ace, a wife and child from before. Long-dead but not forgotten, but Cayde hadn’t been able to figure out if they were real or just a figment of his fragmented mind. Cayde had even named his prized gun “Ace” after his child. The gun used to end the Hunter’s life.   
The hand cannon was the only weapon the Titan kept, out of all of Cayde’s possessions. Saladin had given it to him to decide what to do with it, and Zavala had placed it in a box and slid it under his bed. But out of all of the things he had of Cayde, the gun was perhaps the most personal and precious to Zavala.   
And the next morning. He didn’t notice Ikora’s gaze flit to the gun in the holster strapped to his right leg. He’d taken the Ace of Spades because it felt right, like there was part of Cayde still with them.


	4. Unwell

Wildcard  
Chapter 4  
Disclaimer: I don't own “Destiny” or its characters. They belong to Bungie I'm just taking them for a spin. 

Cayde was getting restless. A couple of weeks had passed since his awakening, and he had done as he was told by his rescuers—rested, tried not to think about what he’d been through, and what he was going through. 

He felt different. Off, if was going to put a word to it. Another issue he probably needed to confront, except he didn’t want to think about what he already knew. He was Lightless, even though he had a Ghost. A Ghost who healed him once, but hadn’t the Light to resurrect him. If he went back out in the field, he was as good as dead. 

Maybe he should’ve stayed dead, but apparently the universe had other ideas. Cayde wasn’t vain enough to think the Traveler sought him out to be resurrected this way. No, it was a fluke he was alive at all. 

Alive, lightless, and stuck with a broken ghost. Just his damn luck. 

A light knock at the door brought him back to reality. The Exo sighed when he saw it was Adam, who had a book in his hands, and Mac was with him.

“How are you feeling today?” the human asked. 

“Same as yesterday,” Cayde said.

“No change at all?”

“None,” Cayde answered. “Still weak, like I can’t get my head straight or my legs under me. Sure as hell didn’t feel like this when the Traveler was harnessed during the Red War.”

“What you’re going through now is nothing like what you described,” Adam said. “You were cut off from your Light, making you effectively mortal. What happened to you in the Reef is something entirely different.”

“No kidding, dumbass,” Cayde snapped. “What do you know about the Light anyway?”

Adam sighed. “Cayde, I can’t imagine what you’re going through. . .”

“Cut it with the sympathy, Adam,” Cayde said. “I think it’s about time I started making a decision or two about what happens next. And I think you owe me an explanation about why you and Mac have Light Gwynn and I can sense, but you don’t have Ghosts.”

The human frowned. “I don’t owe you an explanation,” he said. “If you can stand without assistance and call any Light at all, you can leave. Try to call on your Light, Cayde.”

The Hunter scrambled out of bed, standing on unsteady legs, and Gwynn appeared beside him, regarding him with silence. Cayde held up a hand, trying to summon a flame, but nothing happened. He didn’t even feel the familiar lick of his Light in his chest. He didn’t feel anything but dizzy. 

He nearly collapsed, but Mac guided him down to sit on the edge of the bed. “I’m Lightless.”

“Not quite,” Adam said. “But that isn’t what matters now. If you want to return to the City, there’s nothing stopping you. Mac can take you back, but. . .”

“There’s nothing there for me anymore? I’ll face nothing but pity? I’ll be useless?” Cayde said. 

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Adam said. “You’re welcome to say here as long as you like, but we do have news from the City.”

“How’d you manage that?” Cayde asked. 

“I go occasionally to get supplies and see how it’s doing,” Mac said. “Adam doesn’t like it much, so I go.”

“Well?”

“Uldren Sov is dead, and the Vanguard selected Shiro-4 as your replacement,” Mac said. 

“Figures they’d pick Shiro,” Cayde muttered. “And Zavala didn’t honor my dare. Fuck. Why’d Shiro let them rope him into it?”

“You Hunters and your stupid dare,” Adam said. “Why can’t you just set a term limit and choose someone to do it? Seems fair instead of picking someone who doesn’t want the job, and more logical than hinging something so important on something stupid like a bet?”

“How in the hell do you know about the dare?” Cayde asked. 

Adam shrugged. “I have something for you,” he said, handing the other man a book. 

Cayde took it, a copy of “Treasure Island.” “Thanks. This is my favorite,” he said. “Look, I feel tired, and I need a little time to consider what I’m gonna do next. Can we finish this conversation tomorrow?”

Except the conversation didn’t happen next day. Or the one after. The reason was a combination of the Exo’s stubbornness and his condition, which wasn’t getting any better. He still couldn’t manage more than a few steps around the room, and even then, it was on unsteady legs. He tired easily, and his cognitive functions were beginning to be affected as well. 

Mac noted it a few days after Adam’s conversation with the Exo, after checking to see how the other man was doing. 

“He called me ‘Andal’ again,” Mac said, throwing himself down on the couch beside his husband. “And he was asking for someone named Ace.”

“When was the first time he called you Andal?” Adam asked. 

“In the prison, when he woke up,” Mac said. 

“Well, your coloring and general appearance do match that of Brask,” Adam said. “It’s an easy mistake in Cayde’s condition.”

“Which is?” Mac snapped.

“I don’t know,” Adam said. “I’ve never seen anything like this before. All I know is he’s failing.”

“Would a reboot work?” Mac said. 

“No,” Adam said. “A reboot? That won’t work.”

“Why not?”  
“This isn’t DER. This isn’t like anything I’ve ever seen,” Adam said. “Unless you have anything to offer.”

“I don’t,” Mac said. “But is there anyone in the City who could help?”

Adam shrugged. Most likely there wasn’t. He didn’t understand how Exos worked. All he knew was they did. They existed, and that was it. He’d been part of Clovis Bray’s Exo project from the beginning, mainly out of curiosity. But he hadn’t been in on the design or conversion process. He worked with the medical team caring for the flesh and blood humans before they became a new kind of human. Immortals of a kind different than he and Mac. 

All that was in the past, and a small bit of that past he did share with the Exo. 

“I remember him,” Adam said. “Cayde. Pre-Collapse. Golden Age Mars. He was Cayde Reynolds then. Worked as a freelance security contractor. He was under contract to Clovis Bray and blamed for the loss of an orbital station. I patched him up after the incident, and later worked with him when he was undergoing evaluation for the Exo program.”

He glanced at Mac, who gaping at him. 

“What are the chances. . .”

“I don’t know. Don’t really care,” Adam said. “We should turn in, but first, I’m going to check on those two again.”

He stood, walking into the bedroom where the Exo was supposed to be resting, but he wasn’t. Cayde’s hands fretted with the covers, and the Exo muttered in mostly incoherent sentences. Adam couldn’t make out much, but it was the same as it had been the past few days, the bits he could understand. 

Cayde ranted about a crypt on Enceladus, a whisper and a shard of the Traveler. The only shard of the Traveler was in the European Dead Zone, half-way around the planet.

Adam pulled the edge of the blanket out of the Exo’s hands, resettling it up to his chin, and found him staring up at him. 

“How do you feel?” Adam asked. 

“Like something isn’t right,” Cayde rasped, closing his eyes.

Gwynn appeared in front of Adam. “I can’t keep doing this,” the Ghost said. It came out almost like a sob. 

The Ghost was right. 

“I know, little light,” Adam said, cupping his hands, and the ghost set himself down. “I know. I’ll do what I can for both of you.”

Even if it was nothing more than mercy.


End file.
